Free The Calendar of New Beginnings by Ava Miles

brown shoes.”
    Cripes, Danny was acting like the world had ended. Andy wanted to pull his hair out. He surveyed the toast bits on the floor. If they had the time, he would make Danny pick up the crumbs. “Life’s tough. Be glad you have shoes. Lucy takes pictures of kids who don’t have any. You should be grateful.”
    God. Had those words sailed out of his mouth? His parents had said things like that to him and his sisters, talking about starving kids in Ethiopia before he even knew where that was. He’d hoped to never resort to that schtick.  
    “I’m sorry for saying that, Danny. I know you want the other shoes. I just can’t find them today. Please give me a break and go upstairs so we can get you dressed and off to school. I’m doing my best here. Okay, buddy?”
    There. That was more loving.
    Danny wrapped his arms around Andy’s leg. “I’m sorry too, Dad. I’ll wear the brown shoes.”
    “And brush your teeth,” he added, picking him up and hugging him tight.
    The love he had for his son burst through like sun from behind the clouds. Who cared if toast bits lined the floor or that his son had whined about a pair of shoes? He was alive and healthy, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
    “I love you,” he said, cupping Danny’s head, feeling the soft hair cradling his skull.
    “I love you too, Dad,” he answered, squeezing Andy’s neck.
    “Now let’s get ready to blow this joint,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time with his son in his arms. “It’s going to be a great day.”
    After seeing Danny off to school, he headed to Dare Valley General. Morning rounds went well. All his patients were improving—a rarity—and their visiting family members were in good spirits. He even discharged Everett Corrigan, who’d been with them over a week with an obstructed bowel. Realizing he’d have time for a lunch break, he texted his brother to see if he wanted to join him for a run. He received Matt’s one-word answer— yes —as he headed back to his office on the seventh floor to do some paperwork.
    Patient files lined the metal holder situated on the corner of his desk. In his Denver hospital, he’d been able to type his notes onto a hand-held device. Dare Valley General wasn’t as automated, which was a pain in the butt. He’d brought the innovation up to the hospital board in the hopes they would go for his suggestion. Sometimes it was hard to read his notes, though Joyce Henners, the charge nurse, had become a master at deciphering his handwriting. He completed the charts from his rounds that morning and then sat back in his chair.
    Lucy filtered through his mind, and he went online to see if she was on Skype. After talking with her last night about her accident and injuries, he was tempted to call up Dr. Davidson to informally discuss her case out of professional courtesy. Doctors still did that—even with HIPAA. He shook his head, realizing that he was doing precisely what Lucy had asked him not to do.
    She had been right to make him promise not to intervene without her blessing. But he couldn’t deny he was worried about her. That worry had kept him up for hours after he’d put Danny to bed. Didn’t she need extra support after all she’d been through? Her stubborn Irish side really ticked him off sometimes.
    He reached for his phone to text her, only to realize he didn’t have her number. They always used Skype. She usually picked up a new disposable phone every few weeks since most of the countries she went to had different cellular systems—if only rudimentary ones. Or satellite phones, which were reserved for emergencies—like being injured in a bombing.  
    He eyed his phone. Should he call her house? Would that be awkward? Ellen O’Brien would love it, as would his mother. Popping open a bottle of water, he concluded he was making too big a deal of it. She was living at her parents’ house for the moment. He wanted to talk to her about getting together. It was